


Arcana (wrath of the lamb remix)

by UniqueChimera



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Star Wars References, Tarot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28604115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniqueChimera/pseuds/UniqueChimera
Summary: He cannot allow himself to consider the possibility of failure, of success. To do so would require imagining a life without hope or a life without vengeance. Akechi is not sure which one he dreads more.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	Arcana (wrath of the lamb remix)

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as part of a New Years exchange with some of my friends. It was written for A, and is a coda to her fic looking for an open door (which afaik isn’t posted anywhere)  
> Thanks to Parislavender for organizing the exchange!!  
> I don’t actually know much re persona so apologies for errors

Anakin Skywalker shoots a starship right in its core. He leans over his own ship’s glittering dashboard, his sandy (hah, Akechi thinks) hair flopping over his vomit-colored visor. Akechi notes the determined glint in Anakin’s eye, the screech R2-D2 makes when he points the muzzle of his ship’s phaser at yet another bloated space cruiser. A riot of horns swells in the background as Anakin fires again.

Akechi looks away. He has little patience for those who fail to identify the correct adversary.

The glare of the television dyes Akira’s cheek blue-white. His dark curls rustle with the rise and fall of his breath. In sleep, without his mask and jacket, he looks painfully, wonderfully young.

Akechi curls his arm around Akira’s sleeping shoulders. He pulls him closer, so that his arm is flush with Akechi’s torso. Akira is warm and pliant, the best kind of weighted blanket. Akechi lets his fingers card through Akira’s hair. Like Akira himself, it is softer than expected.

Akechi does not want to think about what will happen tomorrow. He’s worked too long for this, come too close. He cannot allow himself to consider the possibility of failure, of success. To do so would require imagining a life without hope or a life without vengeance. Akechi is not sure which one he dreads more.

The velvet darkness that surrounds them bleeds hard curves with the glossy sheen of obsidian. They steal the artificial brightness of the television, forming zebra-like stripes that are all too familiar.

Akechi nods at Loki. He does not want to greet the Persona verbally, for fear of waking Akira. Loki floats to Akechi’s side. His hooves glint gold in a shaft of moonlight, dangling just above the carpet. The tips of his twin, knee-length braids are the shocking pink-red of a plum’s heart. He draws his sword, which seems hewn from molten magma.

Akechi studies this creature, the personification of his rage. Loki belongs to the Justice arcana: truth, righteousness, the desire for consequences that match actions. Its values are straightforward, impartial. The arc of Loki’s blade leaves little room for what-ifs or shades of grey. It is a world apart from Akira’s Personas, whose Fool Arcana draws power from the ambiguity that comes with new ventures.

If things go well tomorrow, maybe—

No. Now is not the time. Akechi sighs and leans into the futon, resting his head against the crook of his arm. He closes his eyes, his fingers still twined in Akira’s hair. Loki is a silent sentinel above him as he sinks into a dreamless sleep.


End file.
